Um. Yeah.

Interesting read on ghe MICE Tool. Sadly, no time. I have deadlines. Sorry, folks.

Using the MICE Tool to Find Where the Story Begins

This week at the SFF Seven, we're asking each other which MICE quotient we usually start with in a story. I can see that the calendar queen, KAK, is anticipating my bitching about not knowing what these things are, because she helpfully provided a definition and some useful links. 

It turns out that the MICE quotient is a tool originated by Orson Scott Card (brilliant storyteller, awful human being) for categorizing story elements. MICE stands for Milieu, Idea, Character, and Event. The Writing Excuses Podcast explores the MICE technique frequently, so I was able to listen to a couple of episodes to learn about it. Here's a list of the episodes where they mention it. This episode is particularly useful, from back in 2011, as Mary Robinette Kowal explains how MICE works. The podcasters also amusingly mull that "milieu" is really setting, but that SICE isn't nearly as good of an acronym. This episode is also useful for the discussion of the MICE approach to conflict.

To summarize this approach to writing - part of my job as the one who kicks off the topic for the week - I'm borrowing heavily from the Writing Excuses episodes I cited. 

Basically these four elements can be emphasized or de-emphasized in telling a story. Short stories tend to focus on one of these elements, while longer works use several. Novels typically have all four, often in a nested approach. The tool essentially dictates how a story begins and ends. 

So, for Milieu, a story begins with the protagonists exiting or entering a space, and ends with them returning to the space. For example, The Hobbit begins with leaving The Shire and ends with returning to it. 

For Idea, or Inquiry, the story begins with a question, like in a murder murder mystery, where the question is posed of why a person is dead and who killed them. It ends with the answer.

With Character, the story begins with a protagonist who is unhappy or unfulfilled, and ends with them fulfilled--or resigned to being unfulfilled. Romance and Lit Fiction are two genres that use this tool a lot.

Finally, a story that uses Event begins with something happening that changes the status quo, and ends with either re-establishing the old normal or establishing a new normal. These kinds of stories focus on action and often disaster.

As I mentioned earlier, a novel will also use these tools in a nested fashion, which I find very interesting. Mary Robinette used the example of html code (also applicable to algebraic formulas), where you essentially close brackets in the same order that you open them.

Html coding looks like this: 

<p><b><i> “Dark Wizard is one of my top reads ever.” </i> ~ NY Times Bestselling Author Darynda Jones</b> </p>

The p opens the paragraph and /p ends it. Same with b for bolding, and i for italics, giving you this formatted result:

“Dark Wizard is one of my top reads ever.” ~ NY Times Bestselling Author Darynda Jones

So, in a novel, where you use all four elements, you'd back out the same way you entered. It might look like this:

<Character><Milieu><Inquiry><Event></Event></Inquiry></Milieu></Character>

To finally answer the question of what I start with? I'm an intuitive writer, so I don't plan these things, but it's interesting to note that I pretty much always start with character, followed closely by Milieu. The above pattern is how my book DARK WIZARD goes. The pattern also repeats within smaller sections and scenes throughout the book, but this is true of the overall pattern. Basically Character frames the overall arc, as does Milieu - then there's a lot of moving from Inquiries and Events - sometimes with smaller Milieu changes.

So, the story opens as such:

Gabriel Phel crested the last ridge of the notorious Knifeblade Mountains that guarded Elal lands on nearly three sides, and faced the final barrier. The path through the mountains had been narrow, crooked, with blind endings and unexpected pitfalls.

Not unlike his life, Gabriel thought with grimly sardonic humor. 

My wizard opens the story, moving into a new Milieu - physically and metaphorically. It's also worth noting here that Milieu also refers to the larger setting of being in an alternate fantasy world, which was something I wanted to be sure to telegraph from the beginning. Gabriel has a plan to change his life, but he soon encounters many questions when he meets the heroine, Nic. It's amusing to me how I introduce her in Chapter 2.

Skirts swirling about her ankles, Lady Veronica Elal paced restlessly to the heavy velvet curtains that covered the barred windows of her round tower room, and slipped behind them. Shivering in the chill trapped there, she hooked her fingers into the slats of the shutters anyway, ignoring the cold bite of the metal. It was a ridiculous habit she’d developed over the last months of seclusion, as if she could make the spaces between the rigid slats wider, so she could glimpse just a bit more of the outside world.

Character, then Milieu. Funny, huh?

I enjoyed learning about this tool and will give it thought for future books. I can see how it would be useful for deciding where to begin a story - and for structuring a satisfying ending. 

Stupid Human Trick Glory Days

 My stupid human trick is a thing of the past. It was the product of a 20-something body and excessive physical conditioning. It was also performed for an audience during a cabaret night at Cornish College of the Arts. I hadn't volunteered, I assure you. I still don't know who put my name in the box, but two of my classmates, Scottie and Brendan, were MCing. Yeah. I absolutely suspect one of them. 

At any rate, throughout the evening, between different acts, Scottie and Brendan would pull a name from the box. The stupid human trick was also listed. So each of us called upon performed. There was no demurring. We were students in an acting conservatory. Pretending we weren't egocentric showoffs just wasn't going to fly.

My stupid human trick was crossing and interlocking my legs, fitting my forearms through that interlocked cross, and walking on my hands. Up stairs and back down. I think it's on video somewhere. A video I hope never surfaces. 

I was doing 12.5 hours of hard physical conditioning per week between stage combat classes and dance classes. I was 15lbs lighter, and, as mentioned, I was much younger. At this point in my life, I won't be 15 lbs lighter until six months after I die. So the ship of that stupid human trick has sailed.

I'll just have to come up with another one that won't land me in a local emergency department. . . 

Edit: I'm back. I'm back because when the DH asked what this week's topic was, he reminded me that I have a few other stupid human tricks up my sleeve. I take them for granted because they weren't learned tricks like the one above was. So here they are:

1. I can stand on point without toe shoes and without blowing out my feet or my ankles. 

2. From standing, I can squat all the way to the floor without ever lifting my heels from the ground. 

These, I suspect are genetic relics bequeathed to me from a long line of stolid Scottish farmer stock. Who else would need cast iron ankles?

Do Your Characters Have Talent?

 Jeffe already claimed the cherry stem trick, my only party trick. And KAK is already the master napper, I’m working my way up to that level. But what’s my stupid human trick? 

Hmm….

Back in the day I could plate out a stool sample in under two minutes. The stink, I’m telling you! Any smart laboratorian figures out how to efficiently streak those samples onto the agar, so I guess that can’t be my trick. 

I’ve spent a crazy amount of time perfecting the perfect strawberry jam! It’s taken a few years of tweaking, but I finally have a low sugar recipe that has a punch of berry flavor. Perfection. I don’t think that’d get me on America’s Got Talent though. 

I may not have a sleeve full of stupid human tricks, but I do love writing them into my characters. Why? Because it’s those idiocentric ways that make them unique, those specific actions that they’re driven to perfect—sometimes for zero reason. 

Want some examples? Find me on the socials and hit me up. My brain’s hit maximum capacity for today and I’ve gotta get up and do it all over again tomorrow. 

I'd love to know if you write charters with unusual or perfected talents. Do they play into your plot? 

Behold a writer with zero stupid human skills

Call me old if you wish, but I grew up watching David Letterman's Stupid Pet Tricks, which later became Stupid Human Tricks (example). As Letterman was careful to note, neither the pets nor the humans involved were particularly stupid, but they had spent significant time developing skills that were...unusual. I thought maybe the young'uns had evolved beyond finding these sorts of things amusing, but nope, apparently not: people watching America's Got Talent in the illuminated year of 2021 were treated to the guy who could crush a lot of walnuts with his butt. So, you know, I guess this stuff is still going on.

And all of it is so very, very impressive, but I'm humbled to say that I have never perfected a single applicable skill. No, I will never be invited to juggle jell-o before a live audience or ribbon dance with slinkies.

Which, as a writer, is a really hard thing to admit. I mean, we are supposed to write what we know, right? And I can neither light matches with a yo-yo nor make a bologna sandwich with my feet. 

Of course, I also have limited or no personal experience with space travel, murder, being a robot, fae possession, magical prognostication, international thievery, or causing an apocalypse. So, you know, maybe that write what you know business isn't the end-all of writing advice.

Good thing, too, because, though I can no longer do it, surely no one would want to read a story about that one weird kid on the bus who could burp the entire alphabet.

Stupid Human Trick: Level = Master

 Guys, guys, guys, you wanna know my most awesomest stupid human trick? 

leans in
whispers

I've become a 9th level master of:

If you thought "sloth," you're half right. If you thought "naps," you got the other half right too!

My stupid Human Trick

Apparenty my newest trick is editing an anthology on the fky. Later this year I'm attending a convention that is exacty one day long. There are over 70 authors in attendance, and many of them will have new books available at the convention, andsomehow I thought about this and lost my ever loving mind. One of the things I always run across at conventions is people signing program books, or having them signed because, franky, theonoy way to get all of the autoraphs you want is in the program book, It's the only olace where everybody is in attendance, barring last minute drop outs. And I thught about how neat it ouod be if someone came out with a collection where every single author in the book was actually there. Lo and behold, I decided to be stupid. So in the last ten days I have A) gotten a lsit of over a dozen authors who are willig to work on a themed anthologu=y ad give me original stories for aid anthology, WITH NO MONEY UPFRONT and B) give me said stories within 30 or so days. I have also procured original cover art and interior art for said anthology. The artist has even been kind enugh to layut the front and back cover for me. The convention takes place on October 9th. That's less than two months to 1) write a novella for the collection. 2) edit the collection. 3) layout the collection. 4) get the collection printed exclusivey for the convention. I hav commitents for two short stories and a novel in the meantime. I alsohave a day job. That, kids, is a damned stupid human trick if ever I saw one. I sense ulcers in my ear future. Here's a hint for what the theme is for the anthology....

Jeffe's Stupid Human Trick

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is "Stupid people tricks – what’s something you know how to do?"

I feel I should qualify that that "stupid" in this topic is intended to modify the tricks, not the people. That said, want to know what mine is?

Well, besides being able to interlace my toes and tie (someone else's) shoelaces with my toes. Those are in my repertoire, but generally less suited to parties, which is pretty much the sole venue (besides this) for showing off our stupid human tricks.

My favorite trick - well suited to bars! - is that I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue. 

No, really.

You know how that was a Thing for a while? It was a salacious Thing, like that it implied sensual expertise. I don't know about that, but I did teach myself to do it in college. If you buy me a drink with a cherry - preferably a Luxardo Maraschino Cherry, though naturally it has to have a stem - I'll perform my trick.

Meanwhile, in the Happy Human Tricks Department, I've been loving the reception for BRIGHT FAMILIAR, which released on Friday. This was the best Amazon ranking I saw, but the book has been sitting pretty in the Top 100 of all its subcategories all weekend. Hooray!

I'm way prouder of this than the cherry stem Thing.